Three Cheers for Five Years
by Paramore7
Summary: "I can't believe you, Blaine." He looked at me, beautiful blue-green eyes burning like fire. "I thought...I thought you loved me. We've been together for nearly four years-and you hadn't seen him since your junior year!" Slight-Future!AU
1. Chapter 1

** Blaine's POV**

A plate crashed against the wall inches from my ear. Shards of glass fell down to the floor, a few stray pieces landing in my hair. I winced slightly, but didn't move to retaliate or wipe away the glass. He had every right to be furious. I should have been groveling for forgiveness at his feet. Instead, I stood there, back against the wall, face a blank slate, and took it.

"I can't believe you, Blaine." He looked at me, beautiful blue-green eyes burning like fire. "I thought...I thought you loved me. We've been together for nearly four years-and you hadn't seen him since your junior year!" A hand went to his lithe hip and I winced again-after being with him for so long I could guess what was coming next. "Get out."

But that was it. Two simple words. There was no malice in his voice, no anger. As if my leaving would have no effect on him. And I doubted it would anymore.

They were just two words.

* * *

><p>Blaine found an apartment somewhere in the city. Considering it was New York, it wasn't difficult. Physically, at least. Every time he went back to their-Kurt's, he mentally chided himself,-Kurt's loft to get his things, he was gone. It was like a blow to the chest.<p>

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he picked up the final box of his things before making his way towards the front door. Blaine reached for the door knob, not wanting to have that moment of finality-that moment of regret before he left.

Then, the phone rang loudly, nearly making him drop the box. He shifted it to one arm, cursed under his breath, and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Anderson? Brent Mitchell from Mitchell's Pub. You got the gig, kid. You start Friday at five. Don't be late. I'll pay ya when ya don't screw it up."

The new hire blinked. "Uh, thanks. I'll be there. I can't wait to start. Thank you so much, Mr. Mitchell."

"Catchya later kid." And he was gone. Blaine sighed, sliding the phone back in my pocket. At least he had a way to pay the rent. At this point-

"Congradulations."

Kurt stood directly in front of the curly-haired boy, jaw clenched, his shoulders and stance rigid. He'd come to the audtition too. Now, he wore a long, form-fitting sweater that hugged in all the right places and black skin-tight jeans. But the brown-eyed gaze was locked on Rachel standing behind him, eye brows arched dramatically at seeing the other boy.

"Thanks." Blaine swallowed. "I just came by to get the rest of my stuff. Sorry, had I known-"

"It's fine." Again, his tone held a sense of finality, but not a trace of sadness.

Blaine stood there for just a moment, searching desperately for a sign. A sign he wanted them back. A sign that this was killing him too. A sign that Kurt hated him. He just wanted some sort of emotion. Anything. He found none.

"Well," he said. "I guess I should get going." He moved to go out the door and Kurt stepped back to keep them from touching as he made my way past. Blaine felt a pang in his chest, but continued down the hall and to the stairs, hearing Rachel whisper something to the counter-tenor that Blaine couldn't quite catch.

* * *

><p>Then, the door to the loft closed, echoing like a gunshot through the building.<p>

"Kurt." Rachel's tone was light, but Kurt knew her well enough to know when she was accusing him of something. (He'd tried to "fix" he wardrobe a few too many times.)

Kurt sighed, walking over to the couch in his living room, falling back into it and sinking into the cusions. "Yes, my over-protective friend who really doesn't need to concern herself with my now non-existent love life?"

Rachel huffed, sitting next to him, crossing her legs and smoothing black pencil skirt. "I just want you to be happy, Kurt." She looked at him thoughtfully. "You've been acting so..._normal_...all week."

The counter-tenor shrugged before turning to face her, sitting cross-legged. He folded his arms. "It's not the end of the world, Rachel. Besides, I've got my audition to focus on next month."

"Kurt!" Her high soprano was shrill and angry.

"Yes?"

She glared. "You are not just going to play this off. I know you, you act like a dam and hold back all emotions behind your diva-which I do respect, you do it fantastically-but I know you can't just say Blaine means nothing to you now. Seriously-"

"Rachel. I'm over him."

The two divas locked eyes for a few moments, eyebrows scruntched together. It was a battle, and Rachel knew she couldn't win. But damned if she wasn't going to be persistent about it.

"We'll talk about this later. Now...retail therapy."

* * *

><p>Kurt was pretty sure if he had bought so much as one more pair of sunglasses, the heart attack he was sure to get from next month's credit card bill would kill him. That was, of course, if the sheer weight of the shopping bags he was carrying back to his loft didn't crush him to death first.<p>

He drug himself through the door, throwing the bags to the ground at his feet before laying himself back on the couch. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and laughing humorlessly. He was not going to do this. Tear himself up over this. Play the part of a the heartbroken.

He picked up his phone, dialing the number subconsciously. "Rache?"

_"Hello, my darling."_

"What are you doing this Friday?"

_"Name a place and time." _Her voice floated through the phone lightly, and Kurt held back a laugh as he heard Barbra playing loudly in the background.

"Mitchell's. Four-thirty?"

_"See you then."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Welp, sorry this has taken so long. I wanted to do more-and give it more...substance-but I just wanted to make sure that what Blaine did was **_**painfully**_** obvious. (I had more than one person mention that they weren't sure what had happened.) :D So, here goes nothing! (Sorry for any mistakes, I edited myself again, without spellcheck or grammar help.)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

><p><em> Blaine stood in the bar, laughing at something the girl next to him had said. She was a usual here, he'd decided. She was far too comfortable, really, and even though he'd only been here one other time-he still hated Wesley for dragging him there as a wingman-she seemed to live at the place. He shrugged, at least he'd have an audience of one if they asked him to go on again after the other auditions finished; they always helped him preform.<br>_

_He lifted his glass to his lips, frowning when it was empty.  
><em>

_"Hey," Blaine looked over to see the bartender setting a mug at his elbow." From the guy in the back corner. White shirt and a cocky grin." He pointed in the direction of the gifter.  
><em>

_Blaine peered into the darkness as he made his way to the corner., He nearly gasped as he saw who was there, the alcohol begining to have a serious effect on him. "Sebastian?" _

* * *

><p>Blaine bolted awake to the sound of his phone buzzing on the bedside table. Damn, flashbacks and dreams were the last thing he needed...<br>**  
>New Message From: Sebastian Smythe, 11:57 pm. <strong>_**  
>Hey sexy ;) <strong>__  
><em>  
>Blaine gritted his teeth, wanting to hit himself.<p>

How had he even let this happen? He sighed, tossing his phone to the foot of his bed, and leaning back against the head board. He didn't get it. Sebastian was nothing but a charming smile and a cocky addicted. Blaine hadn't seen him since high school. He hadn't changed over the years, though-that was certain.

The phone buzzed again, making Blaine let out a sound one part annoyance and the other a deeper anxiousness. He just wouldn't give up...

**New Message From: Sebastian Smythe, 11:57 pm.  
><strong>_**Fairy found out didn't he? **__  
><em>  
>He bit his lip, ready to type in a quick, scathing retort before his phone rang. He picked up after the second ring. "What, Sebastian?" He tone was tight and clipped. Anger practically radiated through the phone.<p>

_"Now, now, Blaine."_ The voice on the other end was thick, alluring. Blaine hated it. _"Just because your little fairy finally figured it out that you really did deserve better, doesn't mean that you have to be so upset with me-" _

"If you hadn't gotten me drunk, this never would have happened!" Blaine interjected, nearly yelling into the phone.

_"Blainey boy, I'm just doing you an honest favor."_ There was a chuckle. _" Kurt-he's nothing compared to what we could have." _

Blaine clenched his fist, recognizing the words from nights ago-one of the few things that his brain had saved through the alcohol-induced haze. "Fuck you, Sebastian."

_"Well, considering you already have, really, that's not so big a deal, hon. But we could make arrangements for another round, if you want?" _

Blaine tore the phone away from his ear, pressing the screen with so much force that he nearly shattered the screen instead of ending the call. He walked over to the small window in the corner of his room. He peered through the blinds, looking out into the bright street lights of the city below.

Not too long ago, he'd done this in a loft in Manhattan in a room full of boxes waiting to be unpacked. His arm around a beautiful boy's waist. His eyes had sparkled as he took in the city, his smile bright. Being with him...it had felt like home.

Blaine threw the blinds back down, letting an annoyed sound escape from his throat. He made his way to the center of his room, and simply stood there. His hands ran through his natural curls and over his face. This really was happening.

* * *

><p>Kurt smirked at his reflection. Skin-tight black jeans. Thin white button-up covered by a simple black vest. It was simple, but perfect. It wasn't that Kurt was vain or shallow-but he knew how to turn every head. <em>Except one<em>, a traitorous voice argued.

He ground his teeth slightly, giving himself his patented 'bitch, please' look in the mirror. He was not going to play that role. It'd been nearly a week. He was over it and-okay, so he was at least going to act like he was over it.

Besides, Blaine was going to be there-he needed to look good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long...there really is no reason for it. But next week is spring break, so hopefully I'll have another up by the end of the week.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Blaine, Kurt, Rachel, or either of the songs used in this chapter. ("Ironic" by Alanis Moriesette and "Hold On" by Go Radio.)**

* * *

><p>Blaine ran his hands over his face before he took the small, wooden stage. He plinked quietly at the keys as he sat on the stool behind his old, rugged Casio. The Dalton-alum sighed slightly into the mic as he adjusted its height.<p>

Looking out into the crowd and past the few spotlights shining up at him from the floor, he saw a modest crowd-maybe twenty-five to thirty-five people. As far as bars went in this side of New York, it really wasn't all that bar. Usually civil patron, good bar keep, and the rats had been exterminated four years ago. Really, Blaine tried to assure himself, this was a great gig.

But...

He sighed. An empty smile played on his lips as he realized how ridiculous he was being. Acting like a teenage girl wasn't going to bring Kurt back-in fact, Blaine would have bet that nothing would have after...that. Sebastian was something Kurt had always been insecure about in highschool. No matter how well he'd tried to hide it.

He shook his head, adjusting the mic once again. "Hey, Brendon?" he called over the quiet murmur of the bar patrons.

The bar keep smiled at him as he made his way over to the stage, a large man with a shaved head and more tattoes than the number of shots he served every night. "What can I do for ya, Anderson?" He quirked an eyebrow at him, looking the boy up and down. "Boyfriend troubles?"

Blaine looked at his feet. "Yeah..." He paused, looking up. "Wait-how did you know?"

Brendon smiled slightly, nudging his shoulder lightly. "Trust me, I've seen that look at this bar a thousand times." He nodded his head back towards the bar. "Come on, it's on the house." He saw Blaine's skeptical look and added, "This of it as a 'Break a leg beer.'" He made his way behind the counter. He pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, winking at the curly-haired boy as he popped off the top.

Blaine smiled greatfully, taking the drink. "Um...thanks..." He took a big swig.

Brendon looked at him. "You wanna talk about it?"

Blaine shrugged. "Well...I screwed up."

Brendon nodded, coming around the bar to sit on a stool next to the singer. "'Heard that one too." He eyed him again. "Come on, boy. Out with it. You'll feel better."

Blaine sighed, running a hand through his ungelled curls. "I cheated on him." He eyed the small crowd of people setting at the tables, chatting amongst themselves. Families, friends, _couples_... "I-I was drunk, at some other place on the south side...and I saw an old flame, I guess." He took abother deep drink, frowning when he saw that the bottle was already half empty.

Brendon cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, looking at him with a mix of sympathy and pity. "Did you talk to him?"

Another swig and another nod. "I tried...but he wouldn't listen." He chuckled bitterly. "Not that I can blame him." Blaine sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. Three minutes to show. "Hey, Brend-"

The barkeep waved him off. "Go on." He jerked his thumb back at the bar. "I'll keep 'em coming."

A genuine smiled graced the singer's lips. "Thanks..." He took off towards the stage.

Blaine was a few songs into is set list when Kurt walked into Mitchell's. To his credit, the singer didn't trip over the words or hit a wrong key. He forged on with the song, choosing instead to watch the glowing exit sign on the back wall.

_"A traffic jam when you're already late  
>A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break<br>It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife  
>It's meeting the man of my dreams<br>And then meeting his beautiful wife  
>And isn't it ironic...don't you think<br>A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think..."_

Blaine continued singing, simulatanioulsy re-aranging his set list in his mind. If Kurt wouldn't listen to him when he was speaking, he'd _have _to listen now. It may have been Blaine's last chance...And Kurt had always enjoyed Blaine singing to him, right? He shook his head slightly, in disbelief of himself as he launched into the final chorus:

_"It's like rain on your wedding day  
>It's a free ride when you've already paid<br>It's the good advice that you just didn't take  
>Who would've thought... it figures...<em>

_And who would've thought it figures?"_

He played the final chord, smiling his thanks at the polite applause the audience gave him. He grabbed the microphone, pulling it from the stand above his keyboard. "Thanks everyone. I'd like to take a moment..." His eyes roamed the crowd, stopping at once when they met sparkling grey-blue ones. Blaine frowned as Rachel materialized at Kurt's side. Her eyes were alight with worry. "To-to dedicate this song to anyone who's ever been hurt by loving someone or maybe has hurt someone by loving them." He swallowed. "This song is my apology to you."

Blaine bit his lip, watching Kurt for a moment before he replaced the mic. The boy had looked away from him, but hadn't turned away or left the room. The singer took that as a silent approval of his method of apology. He nodded to himself and began to play the opening chords.

_"Let's get to the point and all take our tongues out  
>And not show off our scars not leave here with doubts that<br>Things in life well they could've been easier  
>And let's make sure we fought for all that we leave with<br>And lessons we're taught make sure we believe them..."_

Blaine winced as his voice crackled just the slightest with emotion. He looked out into the audience, sighing with relief when they didn't seem bothered by it. Only then did he let his eyes wander to Kurt, whom they desperately wanted to see.

_"And promises kept all turn into secrets we'll keep to our graves  
>Get down on your knees when<br>You feel sure the path ahead is about to end  
>You can never stop or you don't exist<br>If you've walked your shoes away  
>Then just stop here awhile and just sit here with me..."<em>

Kurt wasn't looking looking at him. Those stormy eyes were fixated down to the floor, but his head was tilted in such a way that Blaine could tell he was taking every word, every phrase, every note into himself. His arms crossed over his chest in a manner that was nearly..._protective._ Blaine flinched internally at the thought that Kurt needed protecting from him.

_"Hold on  
>Tell me we'll hold on<br>To today, To tonight, To the morning  
>And just hold on<br>Tell me we'll hold on  
>Cause you feel, Cause you breathe, Cause when hurting<br>We are worth it  
>We can hold on..."<br>_  
>Blaine launched himself into the second verse, closing his eyes, and let emotion carry him through.<p>

Meanwhile, Kurt sat at a stool by the bar. Rachel stood at his side in a manner that was supposed to be comforting, but he paid her no mind. He smiled sadly to himself, taking in the lyrics.

_"And we've all seen the road  
>That we all walked to get here<br>It's lined with the stones that we cast in our youth  
>May they glow like a coal<br>And keep passion inside us..."_

Blaine had sang the words around their home so many times...but never like this. Before, he'd sang it with a smile on his face as he cooked, or maybe falling to his knees in front of Kurt for an impromtu serenade. Now, emotion seaped through the words and into every note. The sound of Blaine's voice was, in a word, heartbreaking.

_"Reminding though young and in love we're all fools  
>But the time that we spent<br>In arms and in longing  
>Can rewrite the pages our fathers left here<br>From a passage of hope and an act of conviction  
>To letters unsigned and unsent out of fear..."<em>

Suddenly, there was a terrible buring in both boys' eyes. Blaine's voice became rough once again, and he cleared his throat, launching into the intro section once again as a cover-up. Kurt frowned, knowing the song from all of those times-there wasn't an instrumental there. He tore his gaze from the floor and look up towards the boy on stage.

_"You're so sure the path ahead is about to end  
>Will you throw this all away<br>Or keep pace with a stride that stays even with mine  
>And we'll..."<em>

Blaine's face was contorted with a mix of emotions. It was something Kurt had seen more than he liked to remember. He recognized the pain, the heartbreak, and the..._love?_ Yes, Kurt knew that look when he saw it. Really, it shouldn't have surprised him-he'd always known Blaine had loved him. Even the day he had found out about Sebastian, he had never questioned it. It had been the trust.

_"Hold on  
>Tell me we'll hold on<br>To today, To tonight, To the morning  
>And just hold on<br>Tell me we'll hold on  
>Cause you feel, Cause you breathe, Cause when hurting<br>We are worth it  
>We can hold on..."<em>

Blaine looked up from the keys as he once again played a final chord. He cleared his throat, raspy from the emotions swimming in his head as well as his chest. His eyes went directly to the bar.

The stool was empty.


End file.
